


Cookie Monsters, Hot Cocoa and the Absence of Cuddles

by lesbianneptune



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3417665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianneptune/pseuds/lesbianneptune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's been eleven hours and thirteen minutes since you last hugged me."<br/>In which Michiru learns that looking after her freezing cold, exceedingly melodramatic wife is not exactly the most orthodox work environment ever created.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookie Monsters, Hot Cocoa and the Absence of Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Femslash February 2015, with the prompt "Huddling for Warmth", courtesy of the wonderful Harumichi Tumblr Circle. Contains sulky cuddly sugar-obsessed Haruka, wind up merchant Michiru, a fair bit of fluff and a hell of a lot of sugar.

The final exhausted sigh of the heater in the Kaioh-Tenoh household meant a multitude of things.  
Firstly, and perhaps obviously - what with it being the middle of winter - it meant that the entire house would be unbearably cold until a time at which it could be fixed.  
Secondly, it meant that Haruka would be unable to concentrate on anything at all, as she was a helpless pile of fluff that needed stable warmth to actually manage to do anything.  
Thirdly, and as a result of the first two points, it meant that Michiru stood very little chance of meeting any of her deadlines that week. It wasn’t that she felt the cold much, necessarily, but babysitting a freezing cold wailing butch was hardly a fantastic work environment for the critically acclaimed artist. Especially when said freezing cold wailing butch was incredibly and impressively persistent.

 

"Michiruuuuu…"

 

Michiru could hear the pout in her wife’s voice before she even turned to look at her. Haruka was curled up on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her shaking body. Her teeth were chattering with a forced abundance. Her eyes, just visible above the top of the blanket, were wide and sad. It was a look Michiru had seen many, many, many times before.  
"Michiru. I’m so cold. I’m so, so cold," Haruka whined dramatically and Michiru had to make an effort not to laugh.  
"I’m sorry, sweetheart. The heater will be fixed tomorrow, I promise, and then you’ll be nice and warm again."  
Michiru went back to her painting, picking up her brush and knowing without a doubt that this wasn’t the end of Haruka’s efforts. As predicted, it only took a matter of seconds before the whine came again, slightly higher pitched than the last.  
"Michiruuu…..babe……….Michiruuuuuuuuuuu."  
"Yes, darling?"  
"It’s so cold I think I might die. I actually think I might die. You’re going to lose your beloved wife tonight. Tell them I fought the cold as long as I could, the brave wind senshi battling the elements in what should have been the sanctity of her own home. Make sure Mina doesn’t cry too hard – I don’t know what she’s going to do without me. Probably find somebody else to piss off, actually. Goodbye, cruel world!" Haruka threw herself back on the sofa, yelping as the blanket fell off her. She scrabbled to pick it up, wrapping it back around her shivering form and huffing.  
"Mmhmm. You may have mentioned something to that effect already," Michiru teased, putting her paintbrush down again and getting up from her stool. Haruka’s eyes instantly lit up and Michiru felt only a glimmer of guilt as she bypassed her wife completely and headed for the bedroom.  
Haruka squeaked.  
"Does this mean we’re going to bed? DOES THIS MEAN WE’RE GOING TO BED!?" Haruka could hardly believe it. She had actually won. She had won and it had only taken three soliloquies illustrating her own incoming death and a few crocodile tears here and there. Before she could fully celebrate her victory, however, Michiru interrupted her with a kiss on the cheek and a cookie monster onesie dropped in her lap.  
"Apparently, these onesie things are supposed to keep you warm in the winter. Or, so I’ve heard. Now, put it on and let me finish my painting. There’s a good girl."  
Haruka groaned.  
She was clearly going to have to try much, much harder to get what she wanted.

—

"Michi………………………….Michi. Michiru. Michiru. MICHIRU."  
Michiru smiled at the grumpy looking cookie monster that now occupied her couch.  
"Yes?"  
"I was readin’ about how penguins huddle for warmth when they’re cold," Haruka tried hopefully, leaning her head on her hands and gazing adorably at her tutting wife, "I think we should learn something from the penguins. I really think penguins have the right idea here."  
"I’m still not quite getting your point, darling. Besides, you can’t possibly still be cold."  
"MICHI. I AM FREEZING TO DEATH. I am freezing to death and you are going to just allow a pure, innocent, helpless, completely adorable cookie monster to freeze to death on your couch. Without any cookies in sight. People are going to tell tales of me and people are going to cry.”  
"Well, well, well. We can’t have that now can we?"  
"No. No we can’t. We really can’t, Michiru."  
Michiru stood up again. Put down her paintbrush. Walked towards the sofa…  
…and deliberately and knowingly turned before Haruka could reach out and grab her.  
"MICHIRU WHY!?"  
"I’m going to go to the kitchen and I’m going to make you some hot cocoa. You know, to warm your stomach," Michiru smiled sweetly.  
Haruka weighed up her options.  
On the one hand, Michiru made amazing hot cocoa. She made sure to put extra sugar in, just how Haruka like, and there were always marshmallows and basically, as with pretty much everything Michiru ever did, it was fucking spectacular.  
On the other hand, if her hands were around a mug, they weren’t going to be around Michiru’s waist (or, if she was incredibly lucky, on her boobs) for at least another five minutes.  
She sighed and followed her wife to the kitchen, figuring that if she pouted hard enough, she may be allowed a quick snuggle.

—

"It’s been eleven hours and thirteen minutes since you last hugged me."

 

The battle was far from being over, despite Michiru’s peace offering of heavily-sugared hot cocoa with an extra helping of cookies. (Haruka had been kept quiet for roughly eight minutes before she started whining again, and Michiru couldn’t help but feel proud that she had lasted so long.) Michiru, thankfully, was almost done with her work, putting the finishing touches on her latest masterpiece – but informing Haruka of this would have only have resulted in an overgrown cookie monster attempting to climb into her lap and probably knocking over all her paint in the process. When you gave Haruka an inch, she took a mile and said mile usually involved damage to the premises, so Michiru was keeping her cards close to her chest as regards the sulking blonde. Besides which, making Haruka wait was deliciously entertaining and Haruka’s physical and emotional clinginess were two things Michiru couldn’t help but encourage in any way possible.

 

"You’re so observant, dear. Are you still chilly? Maybe you should go to bed, the blankets are doubled up-"  
"Michiru. I refuse to go to bed without you. Who do you think I am? What do you think I am? Have you forgotten me?"  
"It’s a good job I just finished up then isn’t it? Come here and take a look for me. I want your opinion."  
Haruka darted forwards, getting tangled in her blankets and ending up sprawled on the floor. She dragged herself up and stumbled towards Michiru, still shivering purposefully. She pulled herself up into Michiru’s lap. (Michiru pointedly moved the paint tray out of the way.)  
Haruka stared at the canvas, then back at Michiru, then back at the canvas, a look of complete awe never leaving her.  
"IT’S ME! That’s me! On the page!"  
Michiru had painted her, onesie and cookie crumbs and hot cocoa and all, with an exceptional sulk on her face and her blanket wrapped around her like a cape.  
"Well, yes. The gallery just wanted something wintry so I figured, why not a more domestic scene for once? I’m going to call it ‘Adorable Blonde Butch Desires Warm Hugs.’ What do you think?"  
"I think I deserve payment for being your model. Through cuddles. That’s what I think."  
Michiru smiled.  
"I might just be able to help with that."


End file.
